Rescuing Lissa
by FeatherQuil
Summary: Lissa knows little about savants and the fact that she is one scares her to death, but when she discovers that the legendary soul finders are not mythical her world turns into a spiral of events that means she can't decide if she loves or fears the word savant. Disclaimer: I own nothing from any of the Finding Sky series - it's all Joss Stirling.
1. Chapter 1

**Fan fiction: Rescuing Lissa**

Prologue:

"Sorry I'm late," I called as I ran into the small dingy cafe that served me my pay check once a month. Though not exactly a Michelin star restaurant and neither was the pay fantastic, it served its purpose of my living expenses for University.

"Second time in three days Lissa!" Alan said firmly, but I have to admit fairly as he threw a small black apron in my direction.

"I'm really sorry, I promise I will be on time tomorrow," I pleaded guiltily as he silently pointed me in the direction of a small balding man with a terrible cold. I could feel the burning eyes of Alan in the back of my head following my moves. I respected Alan, he was a good and fair employer; much nicer than his older brother Stew, but that didn't mean I wasn't scared of Alan's power. Let's face it, in a cafe full of savant employees you have to wonder just what powers everybody has.

Now at the age of twenty, I had been at the cafe for two years and whilst the place held some comfort as they were the only other savants I've ever known, I couldn't help but fear what any of them could do to me; after all, we were all cool acquaintances that needed the familiarity of someone being like them, but none of us were best friends.

"What can I get you sir?" I smiled sweetly, though I knew I was no beauty like the red-haired Rachel serving a customer on the other side of the cafe, I did know that I got more tips smiling and speaking sweetly.

"Umm... What do you recommend?" He peered out from behind the thick round glasses, his nose dripping - lovely image - and looked up at me. Unusual to see a man only half my size when I was not exactly the tallest of people myself. If he had a childish disposition he could easily swing his legs back and forwards sitting on the chair without touching the ground.

"Our 'all day' breakfast is very popular though I have to admit the cheesy chips are a personal favourite," well I'm not really a fan of our grease caked food but I do admit that Hadley does a good bowl of cheesy chips.

"Sounds good to me, the chips and a coffee then please," he had a rather nasally voice I noted, but I also couldn't miss the way he kept tugging his coat closer around himself as if he was hiding something from my unsuspecting eyes.

As I hurried over to the counter to hand over the order Rachel waltzed her way over, easily flicking her red her for her soon to be high-tipping customer. Poor guy in his trim business suit, his wallet would probably be empty by the time Rachel had finished her flirtation.

"I swear you belong in a burlesque show," I murmured quietly to her.

"My life's ambition sister," she giggled and winked as we handed over our orders.

"By the way girls," the slimy Stew popped his head out from the back. "If a man by the name of Manhattan should come in asking for me, just sent him straight through to the back." Let me add that men with unusual and clearly 'non-names' often came in asking for Stew or Alan, both Rachel and I had learned to stop asking what it was about long ago.

As I turned around I noticed Rachel's victim, though intently gazing at his newspaper, seemed to be listening to the conversation. Putting it down to my imagination I continued to clear the tables until the small man's order was ready. By the time I placed the steaming dish in front of him, the place was deserted of customers save himself and Rachel's victim.

"Tell me," the man grabbed my wrist intensely, the strength in his fingers shocked me. "How long have you been working here?" I looked back towards Alan and Rachel, who were also alarmed by the sudden gesture.

"Umm... about two years?" I didn't mean it as a question, but it came out like one. "Could you let go of my arm please?" The strange little man continued to stare at me and grip my wrist like a vice.

"The lady said let go of her arm." Alan said firmly and loudly across the cafe. The man slowly stood up though his grip did not relinquish. "Let go of her arm!" Alan marched out from behind the counter towards the man, but before he had chance to step much further Rachel's prey had jumped out of his seat and blocked his path easily, bending Alan's arms behind his back into handcuffs, like some foul magic trick. After roughly pushing the protesting Alan down across the table, the suited man pulled out a radio and summoned other men.

"You are all under arrest," the little man beside me said as he pulled out an FBI badge.

"What for?" Rachel exclaimed loudly in astonishment as police men in bullet proof vests began to run into the cafe holding guns and running through to the back, presumably to find Hadley and Stew. Rachel had gone as white as a sheet as though she was about to faint; I was too shocked to move though I felt my skin begin to quiver in shivers. I felt cold hands behind me-

"Hey! Watch the hands Munchkin!" I rebuked the little man loudly as I believe he touched me further south than he intended. We were frogmarched out of the cafe into the back of blacked out police cars.

As the car began to drive away I felt fear course through my body, what on earth was happening?

Chapter 1:

I was shut away in a brightly lit interview room with grey metallic walls and a solid table to match the droll atmosphere. I scuffed my black converses repeatedly on the ground as I incessantly fiddled with the ice cold metal of the handcuffs which trapped my wrists together. I hated the claustrophobic feel. To the left of my spindly chair by the table was a large black window which surprised me. I guess I had always assumed that those one-way windows used in interview rooms were only for films, but I guess not. I felt like a tortured animal in a zoo, chained up and being gawked at by my captors.

Suddenly, the heavy metal door opened and in walked a large wide man with shaggy blonde hair and a crumpled brown suit. He said nothing initially and merely glared at me with those vacant grey eyes. Eventually, he slammed the door behind him and slowly waddled over to the window. I watched his every move like a hawk: the way he placed each foot meaningfully, the sway of his ungainly arms and the loud chewing of white tasteless gum in his mouth. He prodded one fat, nail-bitten finger to the window twice and was replied by a three beat accented knock. Slowly, he squashed his weight into the chair opposite me.

"Your red-headed friend is playing dumb," I was surprised by the rough yet high-pitched sound to his voice, "I sincerely hope you're not going to." We paused for a moment in unaccountable silence.

"Was that a question?" I asked dumbly, prying an evil smirk from his lips.

"Let's begin shall we?" He folded his arms, creasing his suit even more.

"Aren't you going to record this?" I asked noticing once more that the table was completely bare. He lazily pointed his thumb towards the blackened window, peaking my curiosity.

"I have all the surveillance I need. So," he drew in a deep breath, "what's your name?"

"Lissa Jones."

"Your accent is certainly not American. British?" I nodded my assent. "And you've been working at the cafe for two years?" I nodded again. "Why do you work there?"

"A regular job with regular money, it helps me pay my living and accommodation costs at the university," I tried to fold my arms but the handcuffs only resulted in my arm muscles twigging in pain, I laid my arms heavily on the table.

"And what do you think about your employers? Alan and Stew Bates?" I was a bit confused why he was asking the questions, but I answered honestly, eager to be home finishing off that history paper needed for tomorrow on the Vietnam War.

"I get along better with Alan than Stew, they're fair but firm employers."

"What do you think of their business?" He asked smoothly. What on earth did the FBI want with a little cafe?

"Well," I sighed more astonished than perturbed now, "slow but they turn a profit, it is but a little cafe so you can't expect wonders."

"No, Miss Jones," he leaned across the table interlocking his hands; I felt the need to lean backwards as a foul stench invaded my nostrils. "You misunderstood, I meant their other business."

"What other business?" Now I was more confused than ever. He leaned back suddenly with a large sigh.

"Just as dumb as your friend then? Do you really expect me to believe you know nothing about it?" His voice had turned cold and bitter. I sat up straighter in my chair, my pride taking a stab from the word 'dumb', my anger fizzing.

"It depends on your interpretation of 'dumb' doesn't it? Academically my intelligence is sound and I believe I do not reflect the stereotypical dumb blonde, but in the case of my employers I suppose that had they had another business that I am not aware of, then I guess, yes, I am dumb as I did not _know_." I returned his full cold gaze unwaveringly. He suddenly pushed his chair away from the table and walked towards the window, he banged roughly on the window shouting:

"You deal with this! You do whatever it is you can do! I am sick of lying women!"

"Wait!" I jumped up from my chair before he had chance to leave. "I'd like a pen and some paper please." I tapped my index finger rhythmically on the table, my voice was sweet as I pushed the thought into his mind. I guess you could say that my gift was a sort of hypnosis.

"Fine!" With that last angry word he flew out of the room.

"Somebody's tired," I murmured quietly. A few moments later, the door opened again and in walked the young man in the suit that I had labelled Rachel's prey. He lazily handed me a small notepad and a pen. Hurriedly I began to scribble some ideas down for my essay; important words like _conspiracy theory _and _assassination _as well as important names like Diem and Ho Chi Minh which I underlined heavily.

The young man had short soft black curls and deep green eyes, his suit contrasted that of the previous man, his was black and trim with a stylish waistcoat and rolled up white shirt sleeves. I could just hear Mrs Grey my landlady saying 'Very dapper!' He quietly sat down opposite me raising his eyes to meet mine.

"Let's start again," his velvety voice began making me immediately stop my hurried note taking. He leaned forwards across the table like the man before except this time I felt myself leaning towards him instead of away. "Your full name, including middle name?"

"Lissa A Jones," I sighed. "I don't know what the 'A' stands for." Unusually at this revelation he merely raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but he did not ask again.

"Mine is Victor Benedict." He smiled easily, I was beginning to realise that perhaps he had had Rachel hanging on his every word instead of the other way around.

"Benedict?" It sounded so familiar, like a name read in a long forgotten book.

"You know it?" I shook my head in dissent. He smirked, disbelieving my movement. "What did you need the paper for?"

"I have a history paper due in for tomorrow," I cast my eyes back to my notes, quickly scribbling forgotten ideas.

"You study history at the university?" I nodded. "Can I see?"

"No!" I pulled the notebook away from the outstretched hand he held before him. "I never let anyone read my work, even if it is notes."

"All the same, I'd like to read it," his hand remained outstretched in front of me. "Your reluctance says you're hiding something." I pushed the notebook towards him. "Hefty on the politics?" He perused the notes. "Is that something you're interested in?"

"I'm more interested in seeing how politicians can often get away with what any other person would be locked up for," I shrugged at his expression. "A want for justice that can never be, I guess." He smiled softly, I found myself lost in his green eyes.

"We usually get our justice, so I'm guessing you would rather help than hinder us?"

"I would, but I'm confused at what crime you're investigating," I fiddled with the handcuffs, hating the press of the cold metal against my skin.

"Ok, let's start from the beginning then," he placed the notepad on the table and leaned towards me once more. His voice turned even more velvety smooth and I felt a presence trying to slyly push its way through my shields. "What do you know about Alan and Stew's other business?" I felt the answer crawling up my throat and fall from my lips as if I had no control over the words.

"I didn't know they had one until your friend asked me the same question ten minutes ago." As soon as the words escaped my lips I clamped my hand over my mouth in astonishment. "How did you do that?" I murmured quietly. He couldn't possibly be a savant? No, the only others I had ever met worked in the cafe.

"The same way that you could easily persuade my boss that you needed a pen and some paper," he leaned back, perfectly at ease with his situation. "My talent is something of persuasion, but judging by the tapping of your fingers on the table when you spoke I'm guessing yours is closer to hypnosis."

"But... I..." I was lost for words. "Umm..."

"A cafe full of savant employees," he continued as if he had said nothing of consequence. "Not your everyday situation."

"You're a savant?"

"Yes, as is everyone else in my department and everyone else working in your cafe." Suddenly I could feel his soft presence trying to break my shields. I wondered if he could use telepathy like the others in the cafe, his presence wasn't quite the same feeling, but I felt a strange yearning to know more about him. "Why do you work at the cafe?"

"Regular money that I need for university and because they are the only other savants I've ever known." The words fell from my lips once more. "Stop doing that!" I almost yelled at him. "It's horrible, I feel helpless and for another thing it's just plain rude!" That made him chuckle.

_Lissa, this is an interrogation. There is no strict etiquette. _

His telepathy hit me like an electric shock. I jumped from my seat, knocking the chair backwards, holding my handcuffed hands to my mouth. Not possible. It was just not possible. When Rachel told me about soul finders I thought it was a myth. But as my mind tried to dissuade me from the obvious, I felt the centre of my being change into utter devotion and need for the man in front of me.

"What's wrong?" Victor asked innocently, perfectly unaware of the overdrive that he had sent my beating heart into.

_I thought soul finders were a myth. _

My telepathy hit him with as much force as his had hit me. He jumped from his chair, inadvertently knocking it to the floor as his eyes scanned my very being up and down. I suddenly felt very conscious of my plain white shirt and the very short black skirt and apron combination.

We just stared in silence, unable to speak.

I couldn't believe it, not only were soul finders real but mine was standing here in front of me. A guy who I would usually leave to the mercy of Rachel believing him to be far out of my league. His mouth slowly spread into a wide smile that made me weak at the knees, he began to walk towards me when-

BANG!

The door to our room flew open and in walked Munchkin and the large man from before.

"Soul finders! Are you kidding me?" Shouted Munchkin, he marched across the room to roughly pull up my chair and drag me back to a sitting position.

"Don't touch her like that." Victor's voice was ice cold as he noticed where Munchkin's hands had been placed.

"You can no longer continue this interrogation, Victor," the large man muttered as he closed the door. "Your personal link might lead you to be too lenient with your questions."

"It seems to me that there isn't much more to question her with, Larry," Victor crossed his arms, his stance turning defensive. "I persuaded her as you instructed and she clearly knows nothing of the business."

"You may have missed something," Munchkin snivelled. "I suggest we leave her here overnight-"

"No! No soul finder of mine will spend a night in here." He sighed, gathering himself. "Let's just finish any questions you want to ask her and then I will take her home." Seemingly resigned, the three of them gathered chairs and sat around the table. Victor began, his expression betraying something of pain.

"Did you ever see anything weird or something that you couldn't account for happen in the cafe?" I noticed how he did not use his persuasive skills this time.

"Yes," I nodded. "At least twice a month we would have a man come in asking to speak with Alan or Stew. Rachel and I stopped asking after a while what they came to talk about because they never gave us an answer. They had strange names, like Stew told us last night a man by the name Manhattan would call in."

"Yes I heard him say that," said Munchkin as he wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve. "Can you remember any other names?"

"Dakota, Texas, Boston and then some British ones like Bournemouth and Northumberland." I couldn't remember a lot of them. "There was no specific pattern to the names."

"Did you ever converse with any of these men?" Munchkin asked as the men seemed to be hanging on my every word. Was this really important? My soul finder was sat across from me within reaching distance and they wanted to talk about this? I shook my head. "Could you identify any of them, say in a police line up?"

"I doubt it, there were too many of them," I admitted. "It just became the norm, a fixture which I hardly took notice of." My gaze kept flitting back to Victor sat in between the two men.

"Did you see anything else unusual?" Larry asked.

"Not that I can think of," I so badly wanted to leave this dingy place. "It was just what I thought was a normal cafe. What is going on? I mean, no one has told me what this business is or why those men came every month."

"It's difficult to say." Munchkin sat back in his chair wiping his eyes beneath his glasses, clearly exhausted from his hard day. "We can't tell you yet at least and in some ways it might be better if you don't know at all."

"Can I take her home now?" Victor's voice was insistent as he stood from his chair.

"On one condition," Larry said as he manoeuvred his foul gum around his mouth. "You bring her back tomorrow after we have talked to the rest." Larry and Munchkin tiredly left the room leaving Victor to pull some keys from his pocket and release me from my cuffs.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered to me with an enticing smirk as he led me out of the room.

_**Hi readers (I hope there are some), I'm sorry it will be a few days until I can update but I have lots of ideas.**_

_**Plus, don't be afraid to review! Be honest, if something is awful then please do help me.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

In a daze my soul finder led me out of the old grey building into a car park encased by three block white cement walls. His fingers held mine firmly as if he was scared to let me go. As soon as our feet touched the wet grit of the car park he threw his head back and revealed a silky rippling laugh that made my skin tingle. Suddenly, a bolt of fear shot through my core, how could a man have so much control over my senses after one conversation in an interrogation room? Just as I was about to pull my hand away from his grip, he turned towards me, placing his hands on my waist and lifted me from the ground in a spin as he laughed joyfully.

"I can't believe I've finally found you!" He exclaimed loudly as he placed me softly back on my feet, keeping his hands around my waist. "And of all places to find you, it was in an FBI interrogation room." He tried to pull me towards him in a hug, but I braced my hands against his chest and pulled away slightly. I found my soul finder. I couldn't believe it! But there was a part of me that had started to ask: did I want a soul finder?

"Not the best place to start any relationship, admittedly," I murmured nervously. Despite my reluctance, his face still spread into one of those gloriously weakening smiles and he lifted me from the floor again into another one of his joyous spins as his laugh echoed through the car park. "Sir, please put me down!"

"Oh no, no 'Sir'!" He said though he placed me on the ground once more. "My name is Victor and yours is Lissa." He paused, clearly waiting for me to respond.

"So," I tried to pull away from him slightly, but he would not release one of my hands, "soul finders really exist?"

"Of course," he started to rub soothing circles on to the heel of my palm using his thumb. "My parents are soul finders and two of my younger brothers have found theirs as well. But before we start talking about all of this, I'm starving, I haven't eaten all day. What about we just grab some dinner from the Chinese round the corner?"

"I'm not that hungry," I replied, still trying to release my hand from his soft but firm grip.

"That's ok, I'll eat, you'll sit and we'll talk." Before I had chance to say anything more he started dragging me down the road with a happy spring in his step.

"I'm getting the impression that you always like to get your way," I couldn't help but tease. He easily quirked an eyebrow, silently asking me if I was asking him if he had a big ego.

"Nope, working in the FBI means I know what is the best action for the moment and growing up with six brothers means we all like it when we do get our own way," he smirked knowing the shock that statement would cause as I pulled on his hand, forcing him to stop walking.

"Six brothers? You have got to be kidding!" I laughed nervously, that was a huge family! After knowing no family at all for twelve of my twenty years the size of his family was daunting.

"Again nope," he began to lead me down the road once more, easily manoeuvring round a young family with a large pram. "My parents went with an alphabetical theme but they started at 'T' instead of 'A'. So there is Trace, Uriel, then me, Will, Xav, Yves and finally Zed."

"Is that normal for savant families?" I couldn't help but ask.

"No," he shook his head. "My parents are a bit individual." He pushed open a plain glass door to the left of us leading into a small Chinese.

"I don't doubt it is a feature reflected in their children," I smiled forcing him to laugh once more. He waved at a large Chinese man with kind eyes and a towel over his arm as Victor sat me down at a small cheap table in the corner of the room. "We only met about an hour ago, isn't it a bit soon to be going on a date?"

_This isn't a date. _He spoke telepathically with a knowing smirk as if he knew I'd say that. _It is only two soul finders going to a local Chinese to get to know each other. Believe me, when I take you on a date, you will know it. _The deep look in his luscious green eyes, admittedly, sent thrills up and down my nerves until they tingled in the very nerve endings.

"Chi?" He called over the waiter easily who smiled and spoke fluent Chinese to Victor as they shook hands smiling and laughing together. Victor continued in the fluent Chinese clearly ordering for me as well as himself despite the fact I hadn't even seen a menu. It was such a confusing situation that I found myself doubting the reality. I half expected subtitles to flash across the bottom of my vision, as if I was watching some cheap film.

As Chi hurried off with our order, Victor noticed the glare I was giving him, in response he merely quirked his eyebrow.

"I don't like people ordering for me."

"You said you weren't hungry anyway, I thought that if I ordered for you that way you would at least eat something." He smiled easily, I had to force my cheeks from not tweaking into a smile. Out of thin air, music began to beat and the song _Drive By _by Train began to play from Victor's pocket. "I'm sorry about this." He retrieved the phone and placed it to his ear. "Hello?"

I turned my gaze to stare out of the steamed up window to the wet streets of Denver. I saw a couple walk past, practically crawling into one another's pockets as they tried to get closer to each other. Wouldn't it be perfect? If this soul finder thing really meant this FBI Agent, Victor, was the love of my life? There was just one problem, the prospect of there being other savants still terrified me. Just how much power was out there? I was so scared. After all, they destroyed my mother. The word savant was like a parasite in my mind, I even hated the fact that I was one.

"Hey Dad," Victor leaned back in his chair, the joy on his face evident from his father's surprise call. It was nice to see he had a close family. "What did Zed see?" His eyes twinkled as they returned to me. "Well, he's a bit slow on the uptake at the moment because her name is Lissa and I am having dinner with her." Victor promptly held the phone slightly away from his ear and winced as a burst of sound from several parties erupted on the phone. My God, it sounded like he had an entire mansion full of family members from the number of voices you could hear! The thought must have been evident on my face. "Okay, you guys, please calm down! She's already scared enough at this point and I don't want the prospect of you lot intimidating her anymore."

There was a lull in the conversation as our food was delivered to our table with many crinkle-eyed smiles. I couldn't help but begin to gobble down the chicken and cashew nut dinner he had placed in front of me. After the first tentative bite, it was too delicious to leave. "Mom, I don't think that's a good idea." The smile had fallen from his face, he must either be on speaker phone or his Mom must have taken it from his Dad. "No Mom, you're not talking to her." I dropped my fork, the clatter on the plate rang throughout the restaurant. "No Mom, I've got to go... Why? Because she looks like she's about to do a runner!"

He shut the phone quickly and placed his hand over mine which was gripping the table tightly. "I'm sorry, it's just my Mom can be pretty intense at times. She positively terrified Sky and Phee the first time she met them."

"Who?" My curiosity betrayed me.

"Sky is Zed's soul finder and Phee is Yves'." I suddenly felt very conscious of his hand over mine.

"I'd like my hand back now please," when he showed his reluctance I quirked my lips and turned it into a joke. "I need both hands to eat this, you know." We spent some moments in silence as we fell upon our dinners, evidently starving. Eventually, Victor raised his head and asked a question that I was dreading.

"Tell me about yourself, Lissa," I returned my gaze to my plate and swallowed loudly.

_I don't particularly want to. _I whispered to his mind, almost too scared to say the thought out loud.

_Why? Don't be scared of me. _I placed my knife and fork carefully together on the plate before looking into his eyes. I wish I hadn't. The pain was obvious. I might as well have thrown the knife and fork across the table at him. _Please, Lissa, don't be scared of me. Do you not understand how important a soul finder is? _It was unusual to see this dominating man in a look of pain and vulnerability. For a moment I imagined him as a young boy, scared by something like a storm and needing someone to give him back his teddy bear, hold his hand and promise to stay with him until the thunder stopped.

"Maybe I'll tell you my life story some other time," I acquiesced. His sigh of relief was obvious. "Victor, I'm tired and I still have to work a bit on that history paper. Could you take me home please?"

"Anything you wish for is my command," he smiled as he stood to pay the bill.

Sometime later that evening I found myself on the back of Victor's bike at the side of the road by the house where I rented a small uncomfortable room.

"I have to take you back tomorrow for some more questioning," Victor reminded me, though I did not need any prompting of where we would be heading. I nodded sadly.

"I need to hand in the paper I told you about and I have a few jobs for the morning, it would be better if it could be in the afternoon," I didn't get off the bike straight away, giving into the temptation of wanting to look at him, to touch him, for just that bit longer before I left him for the night.

"I could take you out for lunch before I take you there," his fingers found their way to one of the curls in my white blonde hair. He curled it slowly and softly around his finger.

"I'd rather not," I said dejectedly as I leaned away from him, he took the hint and let my hair fall from his long fingers. He sighed sadly but did not push.

"How about I pick you up from here at two o'clock tomorrow then?"

"Okay," I climbed off the bike, suddenly in a hurry to be away from him. "Thank you for dinner and the lift home." I tried to walk away as quickly as possible, but before I had chance, he had reached over and gently grabbed my wrist. His eyes held mine as his soft voice whispered to me as if on our own private frequency.

"Lissa, you're my soul finder and I'm yours." The look in his eyes seemed endless. "I will not give up. Even if you resist me forever, I will not let go."

"Why not?"

_Because now that I've met you, I can never be happy without you._ I slowly released my wrist from his fingers, unable to respond, and walked towards the old town house in a stunned daze. By the time I had reached the top of the worn stairs and opened the creaking door to my room, I was ready to fall on to the bed helplessly, but that couldn't happen. As I turned terrified eyes around the room I found my draws emptied, my bed stripped, the wallpaper torn, papers everywhere and my computer smashed. I gripped the door handle and screamed for Mrs Grey.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

I sat perched on the very edge of the patterned settee in Mrs Grey's front room as I watched the second hand of the grandfather clock tick by. After spending an hour in this position, my nerves were pushed to their limit; by the time it reached two o'clock I found myself jumping from my seat when the door bell rang.

I flung open the door to find Victor in less formal attire than yesterday, he was wearing a pair of dark jeans with a light blue polo shirt that contrasted his hair and skin beautifully. For that brief moment of just looking at him I felt more serene and safe than I had felt all night long.

"What's wrong?" Victor said immediately pulling his hands out of his pockets and stepping towards me.

"How did you know?" I asked as I held the door open for him to step in.

"For one thing I have been keeping you close in here," he tapped his head as he whispered, "all night and all morning. Though you keep your shields strong, something just didn't feel right. Secondly, it's written all over your face." I beckoned him upstairs.

"Come and look," when I opened the door to the rubbish tip that was now my bedroom, I saw Victor's face pale. "When I came in last night I found it like this." He began to slowly, and precariously, make his way around the room inspecting the damage. When his gaze fell on the wall, his enchanting eyes creased into a frown. The words he whispered next I would never like to repeat, but he offended many gods in that statement. "Victor!"

"I'm sorry, it's just," he sighed loudly as he ran his hand up and down the wall. "Why didn't I just give you my mobile number? Then you could have rang and told me, I would never have left you alone all night had I known." Then he walked towards me, placing his hands either side of my face. "Promise my something, whenever you feel scared, no matter how far apart we are and no matter how badly you want to resist me, you will always reach out for me in here." He tapped his index finger to my head. He was so close that I could smell his spicy and alluring aftershave which only made him more enticing. "It is our own private phone line and you should never be afraid to use it."

He returned to his inspection of the room, taking away his tempting presence. "Is anything missing?"

"I haven't really checked yet." I admitted. He slowly made his way over to a corner of the room which you couldn't see from the entrance. He bent down purposely to retrieve something from the floor and when he rose once more I felt my stomach drop.

"Please tell me you haven't worn this for many other guys," he was holding a rather skimpy backless black dress that I had actually never worn.

"That's none of your business," I marched over and grabbed the offending garment from his hands before throwing it back into the old oak wardrobe with a broken door hanging on its hinges. He must think I was a tart. His business frown returned once more as the room invaded his senses like some foul stench.

"Do you know how they got in?" He asked as he continued to survey the room.

"No," I sighed as I walked towards the door. "Mrs Grey says she remembers nothing."

"Nothing?" He remarked sharply, turning to stare at me.

"Nothing."

"Then I'd appreciate it if you would be so kind as to introduce me to Mrs Grey," his voice was turning to a bitter business note. The fury he felt was evident, but despite the fact I wanted to be scared of him, I just couldn't. I tried to remind myself of the power he had yesterday in making words fall from my lips without my conscious effort.

"Mrs Grey?" I said as we entered the old wooden kitchen with a little table in the middle where my landlady was currently sat chewing on a cookie with a cup of tea by her side. "This is Victor Benedict."

"Oh, lovely to meet you my dear, would you like a cookie?" She offered him sweetly as he took the seat across from her.

"No thank you, mam, I've just had a rather large lunch," he leaned slightly forwards on to the table as I took a position behind Mrs Grey leaning against the work top so I could watch his every move. Though I could tell Victor was angry, Mrs Grey was a sweet heart and I didn't want him bullying her in any way shape or form. "But I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to answer me some questions?"

"Of course dear, fire away," Mrs Grey finished nibbling her cookie and gave Victor her undivided attention.

"Do you remember anything about last night, mam?" I noticed the slight pitch change in his voice and I felt aware of his presence as he pushed into her mind. He was channelling her emotions, almost manipulating her mind so she would speak the answers he wanted to hear.

"Not much, I'm afraid," her reply was instantaneous.

_Stop it! _I pushed forcefully into his mind.

_I want answers, Lissa. What if they had broken in when you were here?_

"What do you remember?" Victor pursued, ignoring me completely as I began to pace behind Mrs Grey and giving him what can only be described as an evil glare.

"I remember just finishing a repeat of that lovely dancing show when there was a knock at the door," Mrs Grey sipped her tea like she was merely talking about the weather. Her speaking her mind would not seem so unusual unless you knew that the old Mrs Grey was a very secretive woman. She did not like to divulge what kind of milk she bought, let alone the circumstances of an evening where her home was broken in to. "I went to answer it and I just remember there being a thin silhouette through the glass. Then I'm afraid things go a bit fuzzy and the next thing I remember was that I was back in my chair watching the show. So I suppose I must have just imagined the doorbell ring."

_That's enough. _I told Victor.

_That's all she'll know anyway. _He replied unperturbed.

"Thank you, mam," he replied easily as he removed his presence from her mind. "You've been very helpful."

"Oh, I am pleased," she said cheerfully as she stood. "Now if you two will excuse me, there is a repeat of that old English show on TV with the grand house that I have been looking forward to seeing." We waited a few minutes in silence until we heard the front room door shut. The pause seemed endless.

"That wasn't fair." I said quietly.

"Why wasn't it?" Victor asked plaintively as he rose from his chair. "Lissa, I don't think you fully understand our situation. Without our soul finders savants can be dangerous, without the other person keeping them in balance all sorts of things can happen. Depression; lunacy; crime. You name it and it will probably happen." He took one cautious step towards me, so I took one back to lean on to the counter. He ran a hand through his soft black curls and sighed loudly. "I was beginning to think that I would never find mine seeming as two of my younger brothers found them at the ages of sixteen and seventeen. Now here you are in front of me and you're in danger. I find you in an FBI interrogation room and the very same evening your home is broken into. To keep you safe if I have to persuade little old ladies to tell me more than they would like to say, then so be it."

Before I had time to react, Victor was suddenly in front of me with his arms either side of the counter. Though I was taller than the average height, I still only reached Victor's chin, his size was daunting, yet stood here between his arms made me feel more safe. All I wanted to do was fold myself into his chest, but I fought the urge. "We could be great together Lissa, if you would only let me help you."

"Maybe," I sighed buying for time as I ducked down beneath one of his arms and escaped him. "But just slow down for a bit, this is all moving too fast." Before he had chance to respond, the same Train song emitted from Victor's pocket as it had the night before.

"Hello?" He had quickly retrieved the mobile. "I'll be there soon, I'll bring her now." He snapped the phone shut and returned it to his pocket. "That was my boss, we have to get going because he has some more questions for you. One thing before we go, have you ever brought home anything from the cafe or has anyone ever given you anything that somebody might break in and look for?"

"No, nothing," I shook my head.

"Right, let's go before my boss decides to fire me, I'm not in his best books at the moment," he said as he began to walk out the room with me on his tail.

"Why not?"

"Because one of his suspects turned out to be my soul finder."

On the way to the grey building where the FBI were conducting their investigation Victor stopped for to fill up his motor bike.

"We'll only be a minute whilst I get some gas," he replied easily as he climbed off the bike.

"Petrol." I couldn't help but say.

"Hmm?" He quirked an eyebrow at me curiously.

"In Britain we say petrol instead of gas," I replied as I swung one of my legs over the seat so I was no longer straddling the bike.

"Really? That's a bit weird," he said as he began to fill up the bike.

"No it's not," I rebuked, in response he merely quirked an eyebrow once more as if teasing me. "Well, it is petrol isn't it? It's not gas, gas is in the air whereas petrol is a liquid."

"You British and your proper ways," he mockingly rolled his eyes so I playfully slapped him on the arm. "I'll be back in a minute." He ran off to pay, leaving me with a smile on my face. As I turned my head to watch his progress, one of the newspaper stands caught my eye. The largest and most daunting stood out like a blood red rose with sharp thorns amongst white daisies.

LUNATIC STABS COUPLE

I felt my feet slowly walk over to the stand, enabling my eyes to scan the article's contents. There was the occasional terrifying word like 'dagger' and 'madness', but there were other words that sparked my fear. It mentioned that the 'lunatic' shouted words such as 'savant' and 'power', leading the journalist to conclude that the attacker was mad and making up words and mythical beings.

"Don't worry about it too much," Victor's voice suddenly appeared from behind my shoulder, in response I quirked my eyebrow, copying his habit which made him smile. "It's being taken care of."

"But the word 'savant' is in the newspaper? Isn't that a bit of a big deal?" Victor tried to take my hand and lead me over to the bike, I followed but quickly removed my hand from his.

"How many people will believe the ramblings of a man labelled a lunatic by the press?" He swung on to the bike casually.

"Fair point," I conceded as I climbed onto the back of the motor bike once more.

Two gruelling hours later filled with pointless and antagonizing questions I was unable to answer, I found myself head down on the table in the interview room from the day before. I just wanted it to be over, I was tired, I was angry and I felt like my temper could spark at any moment.

"I'll ask you again!" Shouted Larry. I jumped to my feet. Fire running through my veins in anger. As he began to ask the long drawn out question again, I began to pace back and forth beside him. Every time that I passed by his shoulder I brushed it slightly with my hand. At this point in time I didn't care if I was caught through the glass; by the number of angry knocks coming from the other side my guess was Victor was there anyway. As I continued to brush by Larry, over and over again, each time slightly smoothing some of the brown wrinkled suit, his talking became slower and quieter. Each brush of my hand seemed to turn down the volume. He resembled a wind up doll - with his shaggy blonde hair that could easily be a toupee - running out of power. Eventually, when I felt his shields loosen I stopped walking and spoke firmly.

"Stop talking," his mouth shut instantaneously and his vacant grey eyes stared unblinkingly into space, it was as if he was no longer aware of my presence. I marched towards the one way window. "I can't take any more of this! I have done nothing wrong and... and I'm really beginning to hate you." I pointed at the window before I continued to pace around the room. I didn't hate him, I couldn't hate him even though I tried to, but at that moment my anger was so charged that I couldn't have cared what he thought of me.

A couple of minutes later the door to the room opened allowing Munchkin and Victor to enter. Victor looked as pale as a ghost.

"Wake him up," ordered Munchkin firmly but without menace. I turned and slammed my hand on the table, causing Larry to suddenly jolt up from his seat. He swayed slightly on the spot for a moment getting his bearings before his mind began to realise what had happened.

"You hypnotised me!" He screamed, all I could do was shrug my shoulders. Suddenly, he began to charge for me, but Victor jumped forwards delivering a swift blow to Larry's large bulging stomach, knocking him back, winded. "I've had enough of her. Take her away Vick, but I don't ever want to see her again."

Victor tugged me by the elbow out of the room. He silently passed me my white woolly cardigan prior to leading me outside to the car park.

"De ja vu," I murmured quietly as I pulled away from him to put on my cardigan. "You're not saying anything Victor." Silence. He just stood there with his hands on his hips. "Say something."

"I'm pretty stunned by the events that have just unravelled right in front of my eyes." He sighed loudly and rubbed his eyes heavily. "Come on, a colleague borrowed my motorbike so it's now in the car park across the street." I followed him resignedly across the street, parched with thirst from the interview. We silently walked up the stone steps of the multi-storey car park that were stained with chewing gum. The chill of the place invaded my bones and cooled my nerves as it began to rain on the streets of Denver. When we finally reached the right level of the car park, Victor stopped walking. He came to a halt as quickly as if he had hit an invisible brick wall. Seeing that I was about to ask him what was wrong, he placed his finger on his lips. Then he mouthed the words 'Keep up strong shields'. I nodded my assent. Victor quietly walked across the car park, his footfalls barely making a sound. I copied his movements, feeling the rush of adrenaline and fear like an alcoholic shot.

When we reached his motorbike, we found an unexpected spectacle. The motorbike's brake fluid was slowly pouring onto the floor, the seat was torn and somebody had driven something sharp into the petrol tank. I pulled the woolly cardigan tighter around my body as the shivers attacked my skin. Calmly, Victor leaned forwards and retrieved a small scrap of paper from the seat. The paper was curling at the edges and the red pen used mimicked blood. There was but one word written on the paper.

RUN

Victor slowly crumpled the paper with his strong hand and then even more slowly placed it in his pocket. He turned a firm, frowned gaze around the car park level, but there were too many cement columns to have a full view of the place. I felt his strong, safe hand find my own. He mouthed 'Not a word'. Then like a cornered animal, Victor ran dragging me behind him. Suddenly, a gun shot fired behind us.

_Don't stop running and don't let down your shields! _Victor mentally yelled at me. We sprinted down the stone steps, gripping tightly to the banister to prevent ourselves from falling. One floor down. Two floors down. Three floors down.

I could suddenly hear the scuttle of feet beneath us, I pulled on Victor's hand and pointed down the gap between the stairs. I was not mistaken, a group of four men were making their way up the stairs in a mad rush carrying guns. A quick glance upwards showed the same situation from above. Victor turned and pushed through a large red door to another level of the car park, we tore across the tarmac, as fast as our legs would carry us, the strain tingled in my limbs. When a gunshot ricocheted through the air Victor pulled me sharply to the left and crouched behind the red bonnet of one of the few cars parked here. Our interlocked hands gripped each other tightly.

"Well, well, well," a deep, husky voice filled with menace echoed through the car park. The sheer depth to the voice was enough to put fear in your very core. "A little waitress from a cafe, not _very_ significant to us and Victor Benedict, who could be _vitally _so." He laughed a cold mirthless resonance. "What do you say boys? Shall we just start shooting the cars to shreds until we find the right one they're hiding behind? Hmm... Sounds like a good plan to me."

Victor reached his hand under the back of his shirt, retrieving a gun I had no idea he was hiding. He jumped up from behind the car, pulling me behind him and placed the barrel of the gun to his head.

"How _vitally _significant could I be?" He spoke quietly with a mocking tone as he slowly moved us backwards towards the edge of the car park.

"Not that significant my boy," in the middle of a line of men with guns trained on us stood a slim tall man with a scar across his eye that left it permanently bloodshot. His blonde hair was thick with grease and plastered to his head to disguise the fact that it was thinning. He was clearly the leader of this little pack.

"Is that a risk you're willing to take?" Victor asked as he cocked the gun.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

I pulled sharply on the back of Victor's t-shirt, was he seriously threatening to shoot himself in the head? I knew he was weird but he's not that nuts!

_Victor what are you-_

_Don't! _He mentally shouted at me. _Somebody is listening in. _

I peered over his shoulder beneath the barrel of the gun towards the line of men, despite the apparent coolness of the leader it was clear to see the others' discontent with the situation. Clearly they wanted Victor _alive. _I placed my lips close to Victor's ear and spoke very quietly so only he could hear me.

"This is a bad plan."

"Well, I haven't got any others at the moment so this will have to do." He whispered back. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. Not a very solid one, probably no better than Victor's, but it was all I had. Seeing that all eyes were trained on Victor's gun I placed my hand where my chin had been on his shoulder and tapped once.

"The numbers don't look good, my friend," the greasy enemy said proudly, his voice was smooth and slimy. "Why not make it easier for all parties and just put down the gun?" I tapped again. The beat resonated on all eight of their shields. Eight men! I had never hypnotised so many, but I had to try.

"I'd rather have the gun at my head," Victor replied easily but firmly. He was giving no impression of fear at all. Another tap. And another. "Don't." Victor murmured quietly.

"It's a plan," I whispered.

"It's a bad one."

"Well, I haven't got any others at the moment so this will have to do." I copied his words. Another tap. This one resonated deeper into their shields. I caught a glimpse of bedroom walls, cement prison walls and glass windows shake from inside their minds. The slime ball standing across from us blinked hard as if trying to clear something from his mind. Double tap.

"Come on Victor, put down the gun. How would your parents feel knowing their son put a gun to his own head?" Tap.

"On the contrary," Victor replied. "You're the reason why I'm putting a gun to my head and, in that case, I think they would understand perfectly." Tap. There was a sudden great fall in their shields and I lurched for the open depth. Whilst pushing my presence forwards, I tapped on Victor's shoulder quickly according to a tight succinct pattern. Accented, loud, quiet; accented, loud, fast. Then very gradually I began to slow down. Very, very gradually. Their eyes slowly began to shut. The grip on their guns began to loosen slightly. Finally, their shields vanished. Glass smashed. Walls fell to the ground. The men appeared like statues in some sick wax museum.

"Very slowly, place the guns on the floor." My voice was soft and unhurried. Very deliberately they placed their guns on the cold tarmac and straightened up once more. Victor carefully removed his gun, realising the immediate danger had passed. I whispered to him carefully. "As soon as we leave, I lose control over them."

"Then have you got your breath back?" He asked as he returned the gun to the back of his trousers. I nodded slowly. "Then get ready to run." We quietly walked across the car park trying to make as little sound as possible, any loud sharp sound could wake them instantaneously from their hypnotic slumber. We slowly opened the large red door with peeling paint and stepped over the threshold. I could feel my hold loosening, I fought to hold on to it, but it was slipping through my fingers like water. Suddenly, one of them reached for their gun.

"Run!" I screamed. Victor grabbed my hand and tore down the stone steps. We could hear the footfalls and the yells of the people behind us, but they were further behind than before. Upon reaching the ground floor, we ran out the door and sprinted down the empty street save a few cars, Victor dragged me across the road, dodging one of these cars in the hope to confuse our pursuers. Unexpectedly, there was a loud gunshot that sounded too close. For a moment, my left arm felt numb and then there was a sharp shock of pain like a blade of glass cutting through my flesh, it tore a yell from my body. I stumbled slightly, Victor turned and his skin paled before my eyes, but our chasers were still hot on our tails. I didn't dare look, neither behind me nor at my arm. So we ran once more.

I don't remember where we went. Only that Victor led me through many small streets and alleyways that stank of smoke and were littered with rubbish. We stalled momentarily when we reached the town centre. He pulled me down a small alley by a large store and turned to look at me. He swallowed loudly before carefully removing my cardigan.

"Don't look," he murmured as he cautiously pulled the wool over my injury sending shocks of pain down the limb. When he finally released my arm from the cardigan, I saw him sigh with relief. "Relax a bit." He comforted as he took a closer examination. "It just skimmed your arm. Just a flesh wound." He stood up straight and raised his head to the sky. "Thank you God." Then he turned back to business mode and the job in hand. "Keep your shields strong, they could be trying to track us that way." Then he firmly grabbed my cardigan and ripped the arm away from the torso. Even in my current situation, I couldn't help but marvel at the way the muscles in his arms flexed. Then he wrapped the wound on the upper part of my arm in the material, warning of the pain before he pulled it tight. "You'll be fine. I promise." I reached for his hand. Even if it was covered in my blood I needed to hold onto him.

"What do we do now?" I asked quietly.

"I can't take you to hospital, they will look there because they know they got you. I'm not taking you to Mrs Grey's either, just as dangerous," he explained. "You're coming home with me."

"What?"

"I live with three of my brothers not far from here. A place full of savants who belong to the savant net is the safest place to be right now."

"What's the savant net?" I asked wincing slightly at the pain.

"I'll explain on the way," he grabbed my other hand and led me away down the street.

Less than ten minutes later, I found myself outside of the door to Victor's flat.

"It really hurts," I moaned.

"Don't worry, Lissa," Victor put his key in the door. "I promise my brothers will help." As we stepped inside, I was surprised by our greeting.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Somebody yelled from the other room behind a closed door. "You were supposed to meet me for tennis over an hour ago! You didn't ring! You didn't even try to contact me telepathically!" Victor removed his shoes so I followed suit, ignoring the shouts from the other room. He pointed me through to the room from where the voice was emitting as he picked up my shoes and opened a small door to put them away. I hesitatingly walked through into a comfortable lounge with three men splayed across three settees. One of whom was leisurely spinning a tennis racket in the air, clearly the speaker. "Honestly, if you're not going to keep to arrangements then don't bother planning them." I had had a bad enough day without this so I spoke without thinking.

"Well, I give my apologies, but we were attacked and I'm afraid our attackers forgot to make an appointment to fit into Victor's busy schedule." Three pairs of shocked eyes turned to stare at me before they all jumped out of their seats declaring many swear words in the process.

"Quick, sit down here," said the leanest and closest to me. "My God you're bleeding all down your arm."

"It's a flesh wound, thank God and I didn't contact you telepathically as I had my shields up, there was someone listening in," Victor remarked as he walked into the room, giving the one holding the tennis racket an evil glare, enough to make the tall twenty-two year old look very sheepish.

"I take it this is the much adored Lissa," he said as he put down the tennis racket and sat close to me, helping the leanest brother remove the wool from my arm. "I'm Trace, by the way. I'm sorry about yelling, but your soul finder has not made it to the last three tennis sessions we have arranged."

"That's okay, it's just been a bit of a bad day, I didn't mean to snap, OW!" I yelped as they removed the wool.

"Sorry," said the lean one in front of me as he dropped the wool into the third brother's hand who had brought over a bowl of water and a cloth. "I'm afraid wool wasn't the best material to use. Oh, and I'm Uriel. This one," he pointed to the brother holding the bowl, "is Will."

"What happened?" Will asked worriedly, he had Victor's eyes and a kind face. Uriel dipped the cloth into the bowl of water and began to carefully clean my wound. I tried to ignore the pain as the material tugged on my torn skin, I knew I was lucky.

"After taking her to headquarters, we were headed back to the car park where we found the bike in a less than perfect condition," Victor walked towards the open plan kitchen and quickly retrieved a glass of water and a couple of pills. "Here, this should reduce the pain." I juggled the pills with one hand as he continued to explain what had happened. The shocked faces of his brothers were an accurate portrayal of our experience. From their reactions alone I knew these brothers had experienced some of the very worst things in life. There was a look of awe on their faces as well when Victor told them about my hypnosis, I felt a blush crawl up my cheeks. "I need to ring my boss. Tell them what happened and yell at them for a bit to let out some steam." Victor ran his hands through his hair, utterly exhausted.

"Use the landline then, it will be cheaper," Trace said as he retrieved a bandage from a cupboard. Victor left the room, positively shaking in anger, pretty soon after shouts of fury could easily be heard from the other room. I found myself gripping at the settee to prevent myself from running to him to wrap him in my arms and assure him I was fine. _Stop it! _I berated myself. I didn't want a soul finder, remember!

"At least it was a flesh wound," sighed Uriel in relief as he wrapped my arm with the soft, bitty material of the bandage. "But we can't take you to hospital."

"Perhaps we should call Xav," replied Will as he carefully placed a blanket on my shoulders. I hadn't even noticed I was shaking. At the look of confusion on my face Will continued. "Xav still lives with our parents in Wrickenwridge and he's a healer. This way we avoid hospital and avoid the possibility of infection as well. Victor would never forgive himself if you got an infection." This statement was punctuated with shouts of fury from the other room, but the actual words were muffled by the wall.

"Is he okay?" I asked no one in particular, my gaze lingered on the closed door that separated us.

"He will be, just give him a few minutes to relish in his anger. It will be spent quickly then," Trace could somehow find the humour in the situation. "So you must be hungry, fancy some dinner?"

"Yes please," I nodded quickly. "I hadn't realised how hungry I was."

"Adrenaline will do that to you," smiled Will who was sat opposite me on another of the terracotta settees. "What do you fancy eating?"

"What have you got?" This statement was quickly followed by a look of confusion being exchanged between all three brothers. "You have no idea, do you?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"We are not the best cooks in the world, admittedly, that's Yves job-" I had to interrupt Trace.

"So you just don't bother?" I couldn't help but laugh. It felt good to feel the infectious giggle after the day I had.

"I'm afraid we just usually order takeaway," replied Trace, by this point in time we were all laughing. "Saying that though, Uriel makes a good lasagne." Uriel did not look pleased at the prospect of cooking.

"Ah," he leaned back on his settee, clearly emphasising his reluctance to put in any effort. "But Will does a great Mac and cheese." Will looked even more horrified than Uriel.

"Trace cooks a good pasta!" Will moaned childishly.

"I made dinner last!"

"No you didn't I did!"

"That's not fair, I did it!"

Rolling my eyes at the display of brotherly affection, I walked towards the open kitchen wrapping the blanket more tightly around my shoulders and opened the fridge with my uninjured arm. There was a block of cheese on the shelf, some chicken in a sealed packet, a bag of potatoes and a varied selection of vegetables in the bottom drawer. Not a huge selection then.

"What about just cooking some chicken with a few vegetables on the side?" I interrupted the heated exchange between the brothers.

"Sounds good to me," Will nodded.

"One problem, none of us know how to cook vegetables," Trace said standing from his seat.

"Well, for the majority, they usually stipulate on the packet, Trace, and I'm sure you know how to read." I replied as I retrieved some ingredients from the fridge whilst the brothers laughed. "Right, Will could you please turn on the oven and put the chicken in, Trace you can come chop up the broccoli and some carrots, and Uriel you could start peeling the potatoes."

"Yes, mam!" They all saluted me before getting to work.

Just over half an hour later we were serving dinner upon the breakfast counter when Victor walked in; he looked absolutely exhausted from his yelling match down the phone, but his endearing green eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw the food we had prepared.

"God I'm starving," he sighed as I handed him a plate of food.

"Well, thank your soul finder for this, she ordered us around like Mom," Will mockingly shivered, "it was scary."

"Pleased to hear it," he replied mischievously as we all began to devour our food. A comfortable silence fell upon us, as if this was a regular habit for them in their home. I wonder what it was like to have a home life, with parents and a large family? They must have had grand family dinners and I bet special occasions were memorable. Every now and then though, out of the corner of my eye I caught the three brothers looking at me like I was some strange scientific specimen. I remembered how passionately Victor had spoken about savants needing their soul finders, I suppose they were wondering when they would find theirs, or maybe 'if' they would find them.

"What happens now then?" I turned to Victor, breaking the silence.

"In all honesty," he laughed quietly, but it was merely an attempt, nothing of humour in it. "I have no idea."

"We were thinking of asking Xav to come up," Will suggested with a smile, he did seem genuinely happy for Victor that he had found me. "You know, he could heal her arm."

"That's a good idea," sighed Victor, "but I don't know what we do about these other savants. We don't even know what they want." He looked utterly helpless, his easy happiness that I had gotten to know so well seemed buried beneath the surface.

"Well, don't think about it now," I said reaching for his hand under the table. "They have no idea where we are, so we're safe for now. We're one step ahead! So don't dwell on it, dwelling on things you can't change will only make them worse. Think of happier things instead." Victor's trademark smirk returned at that point and the dinner suddenly took a light weight turn full of jokes and laughs. Every minute I spent with Victor and the typical quirk of his eyebrow made me realise how at home I felt and how badly I didn't want to leave him. Though I knew it was dangerous for me to stay.


	5. Chapter 5

For this chapter you have to listen to Ben E. King's _Stand by me _

Chapter 5:

The following morning I found myself curled up in Victor's bed sheets, dreamily inhaling his hypnotic scent. Victor had opted for the settee, insisting that I take his bed as he claimed that 'no soul finder of his' would sleep on a 'couch', as here in America we're supposed to call it.

His room was decorated in white and green with photos distributed neatly around the room. There was one of his parents when his mother was pregnant; there were lots of pictures of his brothers doing various extreme sports; my favourite was the one on his bedside table of them all, it looked like his younger brother's wedding. It must have been taken recently judging by their ages and I couldn't help but adore the happiness on every one of the boy's faces. Despite their fears about finding their own soul finders, they were clearly still thrilled for their younger brother. My guess was it was Yves' and Phee's wedding as there was another brother in the picture who looked younger - who I presume was Zed - with a young, cute blonde on his arm.

By the time I had finally dragged myself from bed, dressed in some old clothes of Victor's that swamped me and made my way to the kitchen, all the Benedicts were up and making breakfast. I subconsciously tried to flatten my white blonde hair that was curling out of control.

"Morning Lissa," they pretty much said in unison.

"How's your arm?" Victor asked pulling out a chair at the breakfast counter for me to sit in.

"Painful," I moaned, I wrapped my arms around my body when I noticed the predatory gaze of Victor seeing me in his clothes, admittedly, his gaze sent thrills up my spine.

"Well, don't worry," Victor comforted as he poured me a cup of coffee. "We rang Xav earlier and he promised to come as soon as he can, he should get here some time later today."

"A word of warning for you," Will sat down on my right and passed me a piece of toast. "Xav is something of a ladies' man."

"A gene which runs in the family," commented Uriel as he sipped his black coffee.

"Yeah, but at least we all draw the line at our own brother's soul finders," Will chuckled, but seeing my frown he explained more. "Xav is harmless, but he's fond of flirtation."

"That's fine," I replied, "but what did you mean when you said the gene runs in the family."

"Well, put it like this," Trace said as he sat down opposite me. "The Benedict brothers' reputation back in Wrickenwridge is notorious!"

"Oh," that was more than a pin prick to my heart. "All of you?" I asked pointedly. There was a moment of silence.

"Cheers, Trace," Victor murmured quietly. Trace winced, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"A serial dater or a 'one night stander'?" I frowned at Victor, the pain obvious in my voice even though I tried to hide it. The thought of Victor with lots of other girls made me want to be sick. But who was I kidding? I thought from the very beginning he was out of my league and soul finders are dangerous remember! I tried to hold on to my mother's last words. If this amount of pain was merely from finding out that Victor was a womanizer, then just how badly could I get hurt being around savants? I nearly got shot for goodness' sake.

"It's not important," Victor replied unsure what else to say. I cast my gaze down to my half eaten toast, I didn't want to eat anymore. Pictures of Victor with women like Rachel just kept popping into my head, easily more beautiful and perfect than me.

"What kind of answer is that?" I tried to reason with myself, we hadn't even kissed, our relationship wasn't much of a relationship so I had no reason to be this upset but the thought still stung like a snake's venom.

"I don't know," Victor sighed dejectedly. I didn't want to be here anymore.

"I need to go to university today, I have an important lecture and a dancing lesson to go to," I tried to change the subject though the atmosphere in the kitchen was as cold as the north pole.

"You dance?" Will prompted, he was gripping at strings to change the atmosphere as well.

"Ballroom and Latin, yes," I nodded. "I don't want to fall behind so I better go today."

"You're not going," Victor's voice was firm and shocked me to my core.

"Why not?"

"The same reason you're not at Mrs Grey's, because they will look for you there." Victor's eyes were cast down away from me.

"Lissa? Uriel and I go to the university so we could see your professor and get whatever work you miss," Will offered helpfully, clearly trying to avoid a battle in the kitchen.

"You're really not going to let me go?" I was stunned, right now I wanted to be as far away from Victor as possible. What if he had brought other girls back here to the apartment? What if he had taken them to the bed that I had just slept in? I needed a shower.

"I agree with Victor, Lissa," Trace said, backing up his brother. "It will be safer for you if you just stay here, for the next few days at the very least."

"But-"

"No 'buts'," Victor suddenly got to his feet. "You're staying here for now because if you leave you could be hurt." He turned and began to walk away.

_I'm sure you could easily find another girl to take my place at the drop of a hat. _I wanted him to feel the pain he had just caused me. He stopped walking, it was as if I had thrown something at him. He turned to me with pained eyes briefly before walking towards his bedroom to change.

Sometime later, the brothers were preparing to leave to go to work and university. After my much needed shower, I returned to the lounge and found Victor studying a folder marked confidential.

"What's that?" My curiosity betrayed me.

"The investigation on that 'lunatic' that you saw printed in the paper," he explained, the air between us was frosty. "Trace is in charge of the case and he thinks it could be linked to our man somehow." Close by him on a mantel piece was another picture of his parents, was it possible to be as happy as this couple appeared to be in their pictures.

"What are your parents' names?" I asked picking up the picture for a closer look.

"Karla and Saul."

"Saul Benedict?" I exclaimed loudly. Some burst of recollection shot across my mind. Victor nodded, confused by my reaction. "Oh my God!" I threw my hands up in the air dropping the picture. Victor somehow managed to freeze the frame mid-air and return it carefully to its proper position. Forgotten memories were flicking through my mind, it was difficult to take hold of them.

"What's wrong?"

"Umm... I can't really remember that well," pictures and names were all blurred in my mind as I tried to recall something. "I saw his name months ago, when one of those people came into the cafe," my words were rushed, "they had a large folder, a bit like the one you're holding, and I remember seeing his name on it. It was a large folder, but then things go a bit... a bit..."

"Fuzzy?" He asked.

"Yeah, fuzzy."

"That's the word Mrs Grey used about the night someone ransacked your room." Victor's eyes creased in concern. "That could mean anything, it could mean our family is a target of some kind. Lissa, do you remember if the place Wrickenwridge was mentioned at all?"

"Wrickenwridge?" Was that important? But, I seemed to remember seeing it written down somewhere.

"Yes, that's where my parents live and if they know that then my family can be in danger." His eyes looked as panicked as they did in the car park the day before.

"It sounds familiar."

"Trace!" Victor yelled.

An hour later Uriel and Will had left for the day. Trace had rang their parents and they had all agreed that it was too dangerous to stay in Wrickenwridge for the present time. It seemed that the whole family was going to come stay in this tiny flat to figure out what was going on.

"I don't like it Vick," sighed Trace as he paced back and forth. "I don't like it at all." I was sat between the pacing duo on one of the settees.

"Maybe if we're all together we can try and think things through," replied Victor. "Mom or Zed might be able to see something."

"See something?" I asked confused by his words.

"They have a knack for seeing things in the future," explained Trace. "Oh, and for reading minds."

"Wow."

"Look," Trace said as he stopped walking. "I'm going to get some files from work that have any information on any recent strange activity, maybe they could helps us. With the number of us going to be here this evening we don't have time for any animosity between you two." Victor and I exchanged awkward glances. "Lissa needs clothes. Take her shopping, but in a different area of Denver to where you usually go, Lissa. Sort out your problems, you're soul finders so you're supposed to be completely crazy for each other and we don't have time for any arguments between you."

A couple of hours later, Victor and I were sat in some strange cafe with loud music and busy tables. We had followed Trace's orders and done a bit of shopping, but we hadn't talked much in that time. I had changed into a gorgeous new pair of jeans and there is something about new clothes that gives you a bit more confidence. So I asked the question I didn't particularly want to know the answer to.

"How many?" I broke the silence between us. He gave me a look that asked did I really want to know the answer. "How many girls?"

"I don't know," he sighed. Seeing my look of confusion he continued. "I lost count."

"You lost count!" I snapped.

"I can't help it!" He looked at me with pleading eyes, imploring me to forgive him.

"Do you want to know how many guys I've been with?" He shook his head but I told him anyway. "One."

"Who?"

"My dance partner." He looked physically pained. "Now take that anger and times it by twenty, you might be a bit closer to how I feel right now." I folded my arms and for the first time in ages I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.

"Lissa, please listen to me," he tried to take my hand, but I pulled it out of his reach. "I'm a twenty year old guy. I didn't know if I'd ever meet my soul finder and I just needed something." He sighed loudly. "Ask any of the other guys and they'll tell you the same, it doesn't mean anything to us it's just a need to feel someone there. I never mistreated any girl I ever met. But any girl I did meet I had to live with the knowledge that I could never care for her because there was only one girl out there for me. After a while, that thought gets to you." He pointed to his head. "Before I knew it, I had lost count how many girls it had been."

I felt the first tears run down my cheeks and I made no effort to wipe them away. "Please, Lissa, don't cry."

"This is just so stupid," I moaned. "I haven't told you anything about myself, but my mother died because of savants." That statement hit him like a sharp dagger. "She made it perfectly clear just how dangerous savants are. When I heard about soul finders I promised myself that I would not give into him, that I would keep my distance and stay safe." The tears were flowing freely now. "But then you crash into my life and no matter how much I persuade myself I don't want you, I do. I really do. And the thought of you with all those other girls is just..." I threw my arms in the air, unsure what to say.

"Sickening." Victor finished for me. I nodded, trying to stifle my tears. He pulled a tissue out of his pocket and moved to the seat next to me. He took my face gently in his hands and, with a delicate touch, he began to wipe away my tears. The soft material was soothing on my cheeks. "Lissa, when I first saw you in that dingy cafe I knew that you were something special, and do you know what else I thought?" I shook my head, currently swimming in the green watery depths of his eyes. "I thought: 'whoever is that girl's soul finder is one lucky guy'." He slowly ran his long fingers through my white blonde hair that I detested so much, but suddenly felt beautiful in his hands. "And somehow, God has made you mine! I promised to myself that I would do everything in my power to protect you. I don't want you to be scared of me Lissa. I could never hurt you. It's because every moment that I have spent with you, whether it was spent eating Chinese or running from gunshot, has made me fall deeper for you than I ever imagined possible. I cannot explain to you how a leaden weight dropped into my stomach when my brothers said those things this morning. I felt sick and tainted. The truth is I can't change my past, but if I could I would do it in a heartbeat. Because the look of horror on your face this morning will stay with me for the rest of my life."

He pulled me close into his chest and hugged me tightly, I felt his soft lips kiss my forehead. I tried to stifle my tears as I pulled him closer, loving his warmth. Out of the window just over Victor's shoulder there was a street band playing and the first few notes of one of my favourite songs began to play.

"Come on," I pulled Victor by the hand, gathering our shopping bags and led him outside. I placed the bags by the band before leading Victor into a large space in front of them.

"What are you doing?" He asked me, confused as I took his hands.

"Ever danced a rumba?" He shook his head and quirked his eyebrow, making me laugh softly. "Well, you're about to learn."

"_When the night has come. And the land is dark." _The singer began to sing in a dreamy husky voice as I directed Victor's steps backwards and forwards. _"And the moon is the only light we'll see." _

"I love this song," whispered Victor as he span me under his arm.

"Me too." We were slowly drawing a crowd as I whispered more directions to Victor.

_"No I won't be afraid. Oh I won't be afraid. Just as long as you stand."_

"Stand by me." Victor and I whispered together. "Now twist," I whispered. Victor followed my directions effortlessly and I soon found myself lost in a rumba, the dance of love, with the love of my life. He soon took the lead and directed me around the pavement beautifully. Our audience began to grow in size, but I found the only person I noticed was Victor and his enticing eyes.

_"If the sky we look upon_

_Should tumble and fall_

_Or the mountain_

_Should crumble to the sea."_

Victor pulled me closer towards him as we danced seemingly in a dream and a part of me realised how perfect this song was for soul finders.

_"I won't cry. I won't cry._

_No I won't shed a tear_

_Just as long as you stand."_

"Stand by me." We whispered in one another's ears. As the chorus filled the air once more, Victor turned me into another set of spins and pulled me close.

_"Oh, stand by me. Stand by me." _

"Stand by me, Lissa," Victor whispered in my ear as he swayed me from side to side.

"Always."  
As the crowd erupted in applause I lost myself in my first kiss with Victor Benedict.

_Don't be afraid to tell me what you really think! xxx_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Climbing the steep steps up to Victor's apartment, I felt dizzy with joy. Victor gave my hand a final squeeze and a last sweet kiss before he unlocked the door. Once more upon entering his flat I was greeted in an unexpected manner.

"Victor!"

"Vick!"

Loads of voices erupted at once and I felt stunned by the number of people now in Victor's lounge. Suddenly, a small woman with a wide smile leapt forwards with her arms opened wide, I dropped the shopping bags as I was enveloped into a bafflingly large hug from such a small person. I couldn't help but wince at the pain that shot down my arm from the pressure inflicted.

"Mom, you're hurting her, be careful," exclaimed a deep voice from across the room.

"Yeah, let her take her shoes off first, she's barely stepped through the door," I could easily distinguish Trace's voice amongst the chatter.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Karla jumped back and immediately straightened my bandage as Victor and I flicked off our shoes. "I'm just so happy to finally meet you." She had a delightful smile, warm and welcoming.

"It's lovely to meet you too," I replied, still stunned by the number of people in the room behind her.

"Get the shopping bags, Victor dear," she ordered her son who complied easily. "Come in and meet everyone Lissa." Karla threw her arm around me again and directed me into the crowded room, seemingly unaware of my uncomfortable reluctance.

"This is Saul, Victor's father," Karla took me towards the tallest man in the room. He had a presence which seemed to dominate the room; he was the head of this family and he was proud of them all. I noticed that Victor had inherited his strong jaw.

"I's nice to meet you, Lissa," he hugged me too, to my surprise, but he was more cautious about my injury. "It's great to finally see the real you after all the things we've heard."

"Heard?" I asked as he released me from the hug.

"You're Victor's favourite topic of conversation, we know more about you then you think," Saul teased, but the thought made me uncomfortable. Karla continued to steer me towards three boys who shared the height and muscle of the rest of the brothers.

"This is Zed, my youngest," this one looked a little scary, not my cup of tea, but he welcomed me with a nice smile. "This is Yves, my next to youngest," I bet he left crumpled hearts everywhere he went, though a quick glance at his hand proved this was the brother that was married. "And this is Xav," Karla introduced me to the taller of the three.

"It's a great pleasure to meet you," he took my hand tightly in his and kissed it slowly, twinkling his eyes. He was probably the greatest Lothario of the family judging by the vanity involved in this one gesture.

"And you. I've heard a lot about you," I said as I tried to pull my hand away, but he kept a firm grip.

"Then you'll know that I'm the most dashing and devilishly charming of all of my brothers," he smiled widely.

"On the contrary, quite the reverse in fact," I replied simply and was received by an appreciative whistle by Zed.

"Let go of my soul finder," Victor ordered as he returned from dropping off our bags in his room. Though it was said without menace, Xav complied immediately.

"Finally," Karla said as she twisted me towards two beautiful girls, "this is Sky, Zed's soul finder." She was the little blonde. "And this is Phee, Yves' soul finder." She was quite tall with long dark hair and a creamy light mocha skin. "They're British too." They both smiled widely at me.

"It's great to finally meet you," Sky said, she reminded me of a little Pixie, I bet all the brothers were very protective of her.

"Yeah, we've been debating for a while now what Victor's soul finder would be like," Phee concurred with a mischievous twinkle.

"You have?"

"Yeah," Sky exchanged a knowing glance with Phee. "Victor's just very professional all the time so we wondering what you would be like." This picture of Victor didn't quite concur with my Victor.

_You don't know him like I do then. _I reached out for their minds making the two of them laugh quietly.

"Right, dinner everyone," Karla clapped her hands together. "Xav, you attend to Lissa's injury, whilst you five," she pointed towards Trace, Will, Uriel, Yves and Zed, "come help in the kitchen."

"What about them two?" Asked Zed pointedly as he glanced at Sky and Phee. I noticed Saul leaving the room quietly, pulling out a mobile from his pocket.

"I only need four helpers, they can get to know Lissa," Karla winked at me as she led her sons towards the open kitchen. Xav rubbed his hands together excitedly to the dismay of Victor who looked nervous to say the least.

"You can watch, brother dear," Xav smirked mischievously at Victor. "I won't hurt her."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Victor beckoned me over to one of the settees, pulling me down close to him. As Xav sat close to my other side his knee brushed mine, Victor's eyebrows furrowed into a look of fury. He boldly placed one arm around my back and his other under my knees and with one easy flick I found myself on his lap, cuddling into his warmth. At Xav's phony look of pain Victor lifted his eyebrow.

"So stick that in your pipe and smoke it," I couldn't help but murmur, to which Sky and Phee burst out laughing at the confused looks on Victor's and Xav's faces.

"What did that mean?" Xav asked, his eyes were crossed like he was trying to figure out some complicated math sum.

"It's an old English saying," explained Sky as she sat on the settee opposite us. "One I haven't heard in a long time." Sky's eyes looked nostalgic for a moment, despite her love for America I presume she had moments, like me, when she missed the traditions of old Britain. Even if it did rain all the time.

"It basically means 'take that!'" Explained Phee as she perched on the edge of the settee next to Sky, her stance betrayed something of being ready to run. I remembered Victor and Trace saying something about her coming from a difficult past, but she felt safe now. Clearly old habits die hard.

"You British are so hard to understand," Xav rolled his eyes as he reached for my bandaged arm.

"Hey!" All three of us exclaimed in outrage.

"We're the ones who are hard to understand?" Phee's face was a picture.

"I'm glad you agree with me," teased Xav as he slowly began to removed my bandage. The material tugged on my skin, causing stinging pain. I winced and found Victor's hand to squeeze.

"You know that's not what I meant," Phee sighed and looked up to the sky as if she was tired of his antics.

"We're not the ones who call trousers 'pants'," Sky said, pointedly. "It's sometimes hard to keep track of exactly what Zed means when he says 'pants'." A slow blush crawled up Sky's cheeks when she realised the implication of the conversations they shared. I didn't see anything to be embarrassed about, but her blush was evident so I came to her rescue.

"OW! Be careful!" I reprimanded, Xav winced and apologised, Sky's blush was easily forgotten.

_Thank you_, Sky sent me a message telepathic message.

Xav pulled my arm closer towards him and placed his fingers over my wound. Suddenly, a cool feeling tingled in my arm as if Jack Frost had breathed across it. The pain instantly soothed and I felt a tension leave my body that I had not realised I was holding. The look on Xav's face was as peaceful as his power. He was an even stranger savant than Victor. When Xav released my arm, I finally felt brave enough to look down in search of a scar, but I was shocked by what I saw. The skin was unblemished. As if I hadn't even scratched the skin, let alone had a bullet break through.

"She's absolutely amazed!" Sky said suddenly. "You're colours have gone all surprised." At my look of confusion, she explained. "I see emotions like colours."

"Really? Wow, that's incredible!" I was stunned, Victor's power and the fact that Xav was a healer were the only other powers I knew. At the cafe we never discussed powers, I was too afraid to know what was possible anyway. I still had nightmares about my Mum and I just was too scared of my own ability let alone anyone else's. "What else can you lot do?"

"I see thought patterns and I can slow them down, sometimes stopping them for minutes at a time," explained Phee to the look of wonder on my face.

"We told you about Zed and Mom, didn't we?" Victor asked. I nodded. "Zed is better with seeing the future and Mom is good for seeing thoughts and emotions hidden beneath the surface."

"Yves controls energy, he's great with fire," Xav added as all our five pairs of eyes turned to the kitchen. "Though don't tell him I gave him that compliment. Then Trace is good at reading objects, seeing where they've been." My gaze turned to Trace who was currently chopping some vegetables, I wondered if he could see the plants growing before his eyes, see them packaged and transported. "Uriel can see the past." He was trying to listen to his mother's cooking instructions, he probably spent more of his life in the past than in the present judging by the attempting look of concentration on his face. "Finally, Will and Dad can sense danger." Useful skill.

"If you lot are finished over there, could you possibly lay the table?" Karla called to us, so we scurried off to follow orders.

_I'm sorry this chapter isn't a long one, and it may be a few days before I can update again, but I will update soon._

_Don't be afraid to review xxxx_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After a delicious dinner, which left us all feeling too full for words, we lounged across the settees consequently demoting some of the brothers to the floor from a lack of space. It had been a pleasant dinner and I can't remember ever having another one like it, growing up in an orphanage meant that food was always a messy affair whereas this Benedict family dinner held an air of ease and happiness despite the pressure of danger that hung above us. It was as if we were ignoring the evil out there, smiling in the face of danger and enjoying every minute of it.

"Right," Saul said loudly, the chatter instantly stopped. "I think it's time that we got to business."

"Yes, you're right, honey," Karla jumped up to close the many curtains around the large room. Yves stood and with a careful swipe of his hand various candles, that I hadn't noticed before, lit up around the room, making me jump backwards in my seat.

"I hate this bit," whispered Sky to the right of me as she tried to shrink back into the cushions. "It's always so intense." She sighed loudly; in comfort Zed, from his position on the floor, ran his hand up the calf of her leg and laid his head on her knee. I sensed they were having a telepathic conversation.

Victor and Trace pulled out three large folders full of paperwork on to the coffee table in front of us, gradually everybody leaned in, despite the fear we were all intrigued. I watched as Victor also reached into his pocket and slowly retrieved the crumpled piece of paper with the blood red word _RUN _written on its pale form.

"Why not first run through what you two both know?" Prompted Saul to Victor and Trace as he leaned forwards placing his elbows on his knees and leaning his chin into his cupped hands.

"Okay," Victor's voice turned business like, it was very different from the husky whispery voice that had me weak at the knees; it reminded me of that interrogation room where we first spoke. "A few months back, my team and I received some intelligence of an alternate net to our current savant net. A suspect from an unrelated case mentioned the need that some savants felt to take advantage of the normal, human population by joining their resources."

"Like a big bad wolf savant net?"Xav said cheekily and was rewarded by evil glares that could silence Satan himself from Victor and Trace.

"It's not a laughing matter Xav," Saul reprimanded his son coolly.

"I'm not laughing, I'm just making it simple," Xav's excuse fell on uninterested ears as we all turned back to the matter in hand.

"Anyway," Victor sighed audibly. "After we heard this we started speaking to other suspects, asking if they had heard anything about it. It wasn't long before we got a tip off saying that the cafe on _Little Street _was a 'go between' place for these people, it was a place to get information, a place of organisation." Victor spared me a quick glance. "We started watching the place, got to know its routine and finally Mr Selzky and I went in undercover to see if we could find anything before we made the arrest." I assumed Mr Selzky was Munchkin. "From interviews we didn't get much; we know from Lissa that people came in often using obvious pseudonyms to talk to Stew or Alan, who were the two owners, and Hadley the cook. When interviewing them they claim they don't remember much about the interviews only that it was _fuzzy_," Victor looked at me pointedly.

"I take it from your manner that the word _fuzzy _keeps cropping up," Zed said.

"Repeatedly," Victor concurred. "Somebody ransacked Lissa's room the same night they were all arrested and her landlady claims her memory of the night was 'fuzzy' and one of Lissa's memories also bears the mark of the word." He tapped me on the knee giving me an encouraging smile, silently telling me to speak.

"I didn't really remember anything until he mentioned your name was Saul Benedict, sir," I addressed the father. "Then something seemed familiar like I had read it before, but the memory is hard to hold onto. Like... Like..."

"Like a childhood memory, the recollection of something that seemed too long ago and when you were too young to remember," suggested Uriel helpfully.

"Yes, like that, though I know it was not that long ago," I explained. "I remembered seeing it on a folder of paperwork and the place Wrickenwridge seemed familiar as well, but I can't really remember what happened."

"So Victor," Will turned to his brother. "You think Lissa saw this folder somewhere in the cafe and somebody - the same somebody who went to search her room - blocked the memory somehow?"

"Almost," Victor leaned forwards as he pulled one of the folders towards him on the coffee table. "I think that somebody is always present in these meetings that Stew and Alan have, this somebody is there to make sure they always forget what was spoken of. I think this same person was only _one_ of the people who went to search Lissa's room and is the person conveniently blocked Mrs Grey's memory. I think that this someone is always present in Stew's and Alan's meetings to ensure that should anyone - like Lissa - walk in who was not supposed to be there then he could easily help her forget what she had seen."

"Who?" I asked, hanging on his every word. "No one ever came in with these men, they only came in on their own and, as you said, Alan and Stew suffer from this savant's powers so they can't be the culprit. Who is it?" Victor opened up the folder and carefully revealed a picture of a well known face that I had seen almost every day for the past two years. Short cropped brown hair, a long sharp nose, wide bright eyes and a friendly smile. "Hadley? The chef? Really?" I was completely stunned.

"You seem very shocked," Karla said.

"I am, he was always so genuinely nice to all of us," I explained. "He always gave me free cheesy chips."

"No, you're right, Lissa," Xav nodded and smiled towards me. "If he gives you free cheesy chips then the guy can't possibly work for the evil savants."

"Don't be mean, Xav," Sky defended animatedly.

"How long have you thought this?" I asked Victor, wondering why he hadn't told me before.

"Not long," he replied as he dropped the photo on the coffee table and closed the folder. "He escaped from his cell this morning and as you said, you don't know any of your colleagues' powers."

"Vick," Uriel perked up from his position on the floor. "Could I try to help recall the memory?" Everybody's faces seemed to light up with hope at this suggestion. I didn't understand what he meant and the look of confusion must have been evident.

"Only if she's comfortable with it," Victor replied before turning to me. "Remember how we said Uriel can look into the past?" I nodded my assent. "Well, he can help try and remove the _fuzzy _bits from the memory." The stress he put on the word made it clear of his current distaste for its reappearing nature.

"He can do it," Sky encouraged me as she squeezed my hand. "He helped me with what I couldn't remember about my childhood." Her eyes looked so honest. Uriel had already stood up and started to walk towards me, before I knew it he was knelt on the floor in front of me asking to hold my hand. "Don't panic," Sky comforted, clearly reading my colours. "Just trust him."

Suddenly, Sky had passed Uriel my hand and I felt aware of a presence in my head. _I don't remember saying 'yes', _I pushed the thought out to Victor_._

_Trust us. _He replied simply.

_Listen, Lissa. _Uriel's voice felt different to Victor's, not invasive but neither as welcome. _If there is anything that you don't want me to see then just shut a door on the memory, otherwise try to keep it open. _After a few minutes of him filtering through my memory I found it hard to keep up the number of personal doors I wanted to shut. Suddenly, Uriel and Zed both started to laugh, temporarily removing Uriel from my mind.

"What's so funny?" Karla asked as the boys collapsed into hysterics. "You should not be laughing at her memories, they are personal and it is very disrespectful." Her tone softened their laughter, but it could not stop it.

"By the way," Sky whispered to me. "Zed can see what Uriel sees because he can read minds."

"Oh great," I sighed. "I'm sorry Victor."

"Why are you sorry?" Victor's face was a puzzle of confusion. "Why are they laughing?"

"Learned how to dance the rumba did you big brother?" Zed asked through his tears of laughter. At which statement the room erupted into exclamations of "Rumba?"

"Oh man, I wish I'd seen that!" Xav laughed loudly. To my surprise Victor did not look ashamed, in fact he looked rather proud, though it was also apparent that he didn't like his brothers' teasing.

"Yeah, you're right!" He said loudly above the laughter. "Dancing the rumba - the dance of love - with my soul finder, clearly an embarrassing moment." At this thought, all the brothers without soul finders stopped laughing and a look of unadulterated sadness crossed their features. Though Zed and Yves kept laughing quietly, they were soon stopped by Phee.

"As for you two, you couldn't dance a rumba in a million years!" Yves was outraged at being outdone by his brother.

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could we please get back to the matter in hand," Saul said kindly as if his children's antics were just an evening's entertainment.

Uriel took my hand once more and started peeping behind doors. Soon a door appeared in my mind that wasn't quite there. I couldn't quite tell where the door ended and the door frame began.

"They're all confused, something doesn't make sense," I heard Phee comment in the background as she kept a close eye on the two brothers and me, I briefly remembered how she could follow thought patterns.

I felt a pressure on the door like Uriel was trying to get in, but I couldn't find the handle to open it. All the colours were blurred. My head felt dizzy and heavy from the pressure inflicted. The colours of the door began to fade into darkness.

"She's very weak, too weak!" Murmured Sky agitatedly from what felt like a distance.

"Uriel stop." Victor spoke firmly.

"Just give me a second."

"I'll give you a black eye if you don't stop." Victor's voice was now angry with undertones of fear.

_Help me Lissa. _Uriel spoke to my mind. _Just reach out for the door. _

_But I can barely see it anymore. _The form in my mind's eye was barely recognisable.

_No, just remember. Hadley wanted you to see this 'fuzzy' door. He didn't want you to see what's behind it, but you can! Just think of it as someone giving you a pair of glasses, but they're the wrong prescription, just because you can't see what's in front of you very clearly doesn't mean it's not there. _My mind returned the pressure on the door blindly and it creaked open like it had never been opened before. Images flashed before my eyes in a whirl.

It was a long hard day at work, too many customers and too many of them with bad tempers. I was carrying a plate of cold fish and chips that a customer complained was not cooked properly. I just stepped through the heavy oak door to the kitchen when I was met with a sight I didn't expect. The latest visitor bearing a place for a name held Stew tightly around the throat. His thick, fat fingers were pushed against his skin, stealing the breath from my employers throat. Stew's bald head was shining with sweat in the bright lights of the steel kitchen. I had never seen his coal eyes look so black and shaded before.

"What is it, Lissa?" Hadley stood up from a table next to Stew, he spared them no glance as if nothing of consequence was happening. "Lissa?" His voice was sharp, it shot to the centre of my nerves.

"The customer complained the fish was not cooked properly, is Stew okay?" I asked pointlessly as I brought the plate forward upon Hadley's beckon. The attacker, by the name of Texas, shot me a look of pure ice, my hands began to tremble. "What's going on?"

"Nothing Lissa, nothing important," when I reached Hadley he took the plate from me revealing a folder of papers on the table in front of him. On the cover, upside down scrawled lettering bared the name of 'Saul Benedict'.

"Hadley-" Stew had spoken quietly but the constriction of Texas' fingers around Stew's thin throat stopped the words instantly.

"Lissa, don't look at him," Hadley's voice was as cold as the freezer behind him. "Go out to the customer and say that's just how we cook it here and if he doesn't like it then he doesn't have to leave you a tip." He handed me back the plate of fish when he suddenly noticed where my intent gaze was. As he removed the folder from my view, some papers fell out on the floor, I caught the words _Wrickenwridge _and a couple of photos of a large family also fell out. "Stew, pick them up!" Hadley barked, Texas released Stew and watched his hurried collection of the papers like some pathetic animal eager to be his master's pet. Hadley leapt towards me from behind the table. His cold long fingers gripped either side of my face and pressed in a vice like grip. His voice changed into one that was completely unrecognisable. He whispered in a sick voice that I was to forget everything I had seen from stepping through that door until I stepped out once more. He sent a force past my shields which made me feel dizzy, blocking my senses for a moment.

I was vaguely aware of walking out of the kitchen and as soon as I passed the threshold, I snapped out of my trance and returned to the complaining gentleman, suddenly perfectly happy to say he didn't have to give me a tip.

Then Uriel left my mind and I felt my senses return to the flat's front room with an alarming amount of clarity. Uriel was still knelt in front of me, breathless, panting like me. Zed was sat not that far from us in the same exhausted state.

"Lissa, are you okay?" Victor asked tentatively. I felt dizzy and awkward. "Lissa?" Then quietly but purposely Xav spoke.

"She's going to be sick."

I ran for the bathroom.

**_Please review, I'd like to know your honest thoughts. If it's bad please do tell me xxxx_**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ten minutes later I was sat in the bathroom huddled close to the toilet; Victor was by my side, cuddling close to keep me warm until the shaking subsided.

"I'm sorry," I barely whispered.

"Why are you sorry?" He asked as he played with my hair and kissed my forehead.

"No one wants to see someone throw up and no savant wants to hold their soul finder's hair whilst they do it," I moaned as he began to chuckle softly.

"Believe me Lissa, I don't mind, I'm just glad your okay," he pulled me closer still, he felt so warm and I felt so safe beneath the embrace of his toned arms. "The same can't be said of Uriel though, not by the time I'm through with him."

"Don't be hard on him, he was only trying to help," I shakily got to my feet. "I need a shower." I stared at my pale face in the mirror. I looked exhausted and very ill despite the fact I was feeling a lot better now. Victor stood and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head in the crook of my neck. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on our bathroom door. "What?"

"Keep up your shields, Victor, I don't want to hear your thoughts about your soul finder!" Zed's voice called from the other side, Victor laughed softly as he raised his tired eyes to look at our reflection, we looked a tired but happy couple. The words 'happy couple' were ones I doubted would ever apply to me, but they now filled me with a warm glow.

"What?" Victor asked me innocently to which I smirked. "Well, the mention of you in a shower can hardly not prompt my mind into blissful imaginings." I giggled softly, the young teenager in the midst of her first relationship inside of me was thrilled by everything Victor said and did. "Come on, you take a shower and I'll let Uriel and Zed tell us what you saw. Yeah?" I nodded resignedly. "And I'll make a hot chocolate for you."

"You certainly know how to treat a girl Victor," I smiled at him, I didn't mean any implication by it but then I suddenly realised just what I'd said when Victor's face fell slightly. "I didn't mean to make you feel guilty! Oh God!" I slapped my hand to my mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Stop worrying, Lissa, I know you didn't," he whispered softly in my ear. "Besides, I've never made hot chocolate for a girl before and I intend for you to be the only one I do make it for. Well, apart from Sky and Phee. What? They'd kill me if I didn't make them one." We laughed together as he kissed me sweetly in the crook of my neck, sending tingles through my nerves, before leaving me to shower.

"Right," Saul called us to order once more. "Now that we're all settled again and the girls have got their hot chocolates, perhaps we should continue." Sky, Phee and I were currently huddled together under one blanket all happily slurping on the most delicious hot chocolates with baby marshmallow mountains floating on top.

The brothers all leaned towards the coffee table once more to look at the picture of Hadley that Victor had placed there.

"Okay, so as I was saying this is Hadley and now we know how he works, if we should ever meet him then don't let him touch you," this was met with nodded agreements from the rest of the brothers. "Next, when Lissa and I were in the car park where my bike was slashed-" to which Zed winced, knowing full well the value of a motor bike to Victor, "we found this note on the seat." Victor picked up the crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Trace. "I was wondering if you would be able to see anything."

"Did you have to crumple it?" Trace teased.

"I was angry and scared, forgive me for taking it out on the piece of paper," Victor smirked as he drank a mug of black steaming coffee. Trace's face creased in concentration as he flattened out the piece of paper. His dark eyes scanned the paper as if performing some expert x-ray for his eyes only.

"Interesting," he murmured quietly.

"I hate that word," commented Xav, upon receiving a stern look from his mother he continued. "It's just it can mean so many things and yet gives nothing away. The word is a waste of breath."

"Let your brother finish," Karla said, she cuddled close to her husband to which the brothers looked away uncomfortably and us three girls underneath the blanket emitted simultaneous '_Awww's _in our heads.

"Done in a hurry," Trace returned to the piece of paper. His voice was business, almost clinical or methodical, as if he was reading out a pathology report. "Done but a few moments before you arrived Vick. Red pen, biro. A red pen which he always keeps in the breast pocket of his suit. My guess is he likes the ink's resemblance to blood. The piece of paper is part of something much larger and this is the interesting part," everybody leaned forwards in anticipation. "See, the edge is torn, it was ripped away from a larger document in a hurry. On the larger document the words 'savant net' are written and by the looks of things this piece of paper was torn from a cover sheet of a folder on anything and everything concerning the savant net."

"Interesting," Xav commented quietly.

"So are they trying to infiltrate the savant net, work around it or destroy it?" Trace asked no one in particular.

"My bet is none of those," Saul said thoughtfully. "Remember how they have a folder on our family? They probably have folders on all the savant families they are aware of. I think that they are going to pick off members of the savant net one by one, family by family and, possibly, use some savants they find to get to others."

"That would explain why that man in the car park said Victor could be vitally important to them," I contributed to the conversation as I pulled the blanket tighter around me.

"That's true," Saul agreed, "especially with your talent Victor, someone like you on their team could be indispensable; you could persuade any other savants they found to tell them everything they knew." Victor looked very uncomfortable at this prospect. "What did this man in the car park look like?"

"Very individual," Victor smiled wryly. "Thinning blonde hair, scar across his face and a permanently blood shot eye." Victor clasped his hands together in thought. "I don't think he is a main member of this other group though. I think he is just a leader of their henchmen, as it were. He just organises their soldiers and tells them what to do, he's not the brains of the system. At least, that's my bet." He opened the folder in front of him once more revealing another photograph this time of the man from the car park, there was also Victor's witness statement of the event typed up. "Eight men in total in the car park, god knows how many came through that cafe and looking at the state of Lissa's room I'd say at least three men went there."

"That's a lot of men," commented Saul to which Victor nodded. "So this is no rogue savant that we're up against, but a careful and large organisation of men."

"I don't like the sound of it at all," Karla said quietly as she pulled the arms of her jumper over her small hands.

"I rang some other members of the net earlier to warn them that there is something new out there, so everyone is on guard, but they are very worried about this family's safety and they warned us to be careful." The atmosphere in the room turned quiet and intense. Everybody knew the fearfulness of the situation. "So I will do the same. You are all my children and my children's soul finders, and I don't want to run the risk of losing anybody. We do this properly and carefully, no one is going to get hurt. Got it?" There were nods and assents around the room. "Right, Trace. What do you know about all this?"

"Not much, but a bit," he placed his hand on the second of the folders and opened it up slowly. "In here there are small reports on many cases from across the country that have occurred in the last year. Small attacks on families, not all of them savant, and not all of them fatal. However, the majority of them are savants which makes me think that the attackers they _thought_ they were attacking savants. What is more, the fact that they're not all fatal means they are not completely organised nor are they one hundred percent effective. I think the attackers could be in this 'big bad wolf savant net' as Xav calls it. We didn't realise there was any link between these seemingly random attacks until a few days ago," Trace pulled the third and final folder open revealing a newspaper cutting stating LUNATIC STABS COUPLE.

"The lunatic attack?" Phee exclaimed in puzzlement.

"So the newspapers dubbed it, but he was only a lunatic in their eyes because he was saying words they didn't know like 'savant'." Trace pulled out a small photograph of a short man wearing wide brimmed glasses, it struck me how normal he looked. "When I interviewed him he seemed very happy to talk. He was very proud of being part of what he called the 'extinction' of us 'ordinary' savants. He claimed it was a 'national pride'." The look on his face showed the disgust he felt in meeting this man. "So, I rang up various police stations around the country and asked them if they would be so kind as to send me information on any attacks which had no rhyme nor reason to them. Basically, no obvious motive, meaning the victims could just be good ordinary savants. This," he placed his hand on the second folder, "was the result. Of course, there could be the usual psychopath attack in there somewhere, but I think the majority of them are a part of what our lunatic called his 'national pride'."

"But why stab the couple?" Sky asked innocently, to which everyone responded with a confused expression. "I mean all these attacks are completely normal attacks with knives and guns, right?" Trace nodded. "Well, why not use one of their powers? Wouldn't it be more simple for them?"

"I don't think they saw it like that," Trace tried to explain. "If you think about it as just multiple attacks on random people up and down the country then if they were all linked by an inexplicable death, something which no ordinary human could explain, then everyone would get suspicious very quickly. Do you see?"

"Oh, okay," Sky nodded as she slurped her hot chocolate. "But then, if this was a huge national organisation, possibly worldwide as the people who came into the cafe used British as well as American places as names, then why tear apart Lissa's room."

"I have absolutely no idea!" Victor said exhausted as he sat back on the settee. "They must think something important is there, but Lissa says there is nothing."

"Nothing of interest at all?" Prompted Trace, eager for anything of importance from me.

"Nothing at all, Trace," I responded firmly. "They never gave me anything. Only pay cheques and, of course, my birthday present." Everybody was quiet for a moment, trying to gather some idea or speculation of what could be in my room.

"Hang on," Karla sat up straight. "What did they give you for your birthday?"

"Just a little painting," I shrugged my shoulders. "They said it would brighten up my room, I often complained of how dull it looked." They all gave me suspicious looks. "Oh, come on, it's just a painting! What's suspicious at all about a painting?"

"Could be worth a look though," Victor said thoughtfully. Trace glanced at his watch.

"We could go tonight," he was filled with anxious excitement.

"No," Karla spoke up. "You all need your sleep and as Lissa was very ill not that long ago I don't think it would be a good idea for her to go running about Denver in the middle of the night." Trace and Victor now both looked ashamed of themselves. "That's settled then. We'll all get a good night's sleep and you will go and have a look in the morning."

**_Please Review! xxx_**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

"Victor, are you asleep?" I whispered quietly into the darkness; my makeshift bed consisted of a blanket and a pillow on a settee in the front room whilst Victor was on the floor beside me. Across the room Sky was laid on the other settee whilst Zed was on the floor next to her. Various brothers were sharing three of the bedrooms whilst Karla and Saul were in Victor's room.

"No, you?" He asked nonsensically.

"I'll give you three guesses to answer that question," I smirked into the darkness. He chuckled quietly as he reached up to the settee to find my hand, I squeezed his cold fingers as we listened to the sounds of the traffic on the streets of Denver. There were the general rumblings of engines and the occasional emergency siren, but I found myself focusing on the soft breathing of Victor close by me.

"Is the traffic this loud in Britain?" He whispered hesitantly as though he was scared to ask me about my past.

"I considered myself lucky if I could ever hear the traffic," I smiled wryly.

"What do you mean?" He asked, puzzlement lacing his voice. I turned slowly onto my side, pulling the blanket tight for warmth, to look down to Victor's wondering eyes in the darkness. I smiled softly, relieved that he could see the gesture through the night time shadows when he smiled back that hypnotising smile.

"From the age of eight, I lived in an orphanage," I explained succinctly to which Victor lost his smile immediately. "I was one of the unlucky few that were not adopted. Not cute enough, not confident enough, strange hair, then pretty soon I was just too old for adoption. The orphanage I grew up in was noisy, loud with screaming children and I had to quickly learn how to help our guardian control them all." I sighed quietly. "It was not a nice place to live. Pretty soon there were too many bad memories attached to the place so when the time came round to look for a university, I found myself looking at American universities before I had really acknowledged what I was doing. It was a relief to finally leave Britain behind, even though I love the actual place and there are so many things that I miss like the English traditions and historical sites as well as the beauty of the country side. I'm afraid I don't have much desire to go back for anything longer than a holiday."

"What was the orphanage like?" Victor whispered as he rubbed soothing circles onto the heel of my hand with his thumb.

"Loud, too many kids, too little responsibility," I moaned. "There were some lovely kids there though, some that I miss greatly. I still keep in contact with a few of them, we e-mail from time to time. It was a large house with as many kids as possible stuffed into the smallest rooms. Mouldy cheese, gone-off milk and stale bread were not an uncommon sight, but I guarantee one little conversation with any of the kids could cheer you up and make you laugh so hard that you forgot what the problem was in the first place. It wasn't so hard, but 'easy' is not a word I'd use to describe it either."

"I'm sorry," his voice was soft and sympathetic. "You know you don't have to tell me anything about your mom if you don't want to." I guess the little truth I had told him about my mother dying because of savants had not left his mind then.

"I don't mind Victor, really," I comforted. "The number of little anecdotes your brothers have told me about you, it only seems fair I tell you something in return."

"Yes, but they're mostly light hearted things that have made you laugh," we smiled together remembering various stories Xav had recalled about Victor's childhood and his fascination with stuffed toys. "I don't want you to tell me anything that would make you cry if you're not comfortable with telling me." Victor was the most charming guy I had ever met and the most genuinely kind one I'd met too. Sky had told me how she was initially quite frightened of him, which is easy to understand as he is in the FBI; I saw him in that interrogation room and the way he arrested Alan, he can be very harsh in appearance when needed, but one lift of an eyebrow or one soft smirk and he turned into the most handsome and intriguing person I had ever met. I know what my mother said about savants, but I couldn't resist Victor. I just don't want to.

"Come here," I tugged on his hand slightly. Victor cast a cautious glance towards Zed and Sky. "They're asleep and I promise you'll only be up here for a few minutes." Victor quietly removed his duvet cover and slipped onto the settee, cuddling close under my own thick blanket. He wrapped his toned arms around my waist and I laid my head into the crook of his neck. I felt him bury his face in my hair and kiss my head softly. "I never knew my dad, mum told me he was a lovely man, not a savant, but she cared for him greatly." I whispered quietly in our cocoon of warmth. "She gave me a picture of him. When we go to my room tomorrow I'll show you, but she never told me more than that. Our life was a bit strange. As I was only little I don't remember much, but I recollect moving from flat to flat, hotel room to hotel room, each time taking a different last name. I know my first name is Lissa and I remember always seeing it written down as Lissa A something."

"That's why you don't know what it stands for?" Victor asked gently.

"Exactly," I cuddled closer. "I use Jones as my last name as it is stuck in my head, it could be my real name or it could be a name we just used more than others. My guess is that my mother was always trying to run from something, stay one step ahead from god knows who. I didn't really ask her about it because I didn't know that this wasn't a normal life. I was too young to understand. I always knew we were different from people we met so I knew I had to keep my hypnosis a secret, but my mum always told me that if I did meet another savant that I should run. Just run and run and never look back she said."

Victor ran his hand softly up and down my back, comforting me by sending tingles up and down my spine. "She made it clear that being a savant was not a good thing. Pretty soon I hated the thought that I was one. Then just as I turned eight, my mother was shot. I don't even know where we were, I can't remember, but she just started to run, dragging me behind her and the next thing I knew there was a loud shot and she was on the floor bleeding. There was a crowd of people, I assume they must have called an ambulance. We got to a hospital and it was clear she was dying. She begged me to stay hidden and to run, always run until I found something."

"Something?" Victor asked, his voice confused.

"She died before she had chance to finish her sentence," I explained. "I was sent to the orphanage and no savant ever came looking for me so I just assumed they got what they wanted in killing my mother so I didn't see the point in running, it wasn't like I was going to get very far anyway at that age. When I came to America despite the fact I hated the idea of savants I found comfort in the cafe, they were weird like me and they didn't ask questions so I felt a strange need to stay around them. But my mum said that I would never be happy until I found this something. I just wish I knew what it was." I felt my lips tremble as the tears threatened with their well known sting.

"It's ok, Lissa, don't cry," he hugged me tightly. "What if this something was a soul finder?" That thought hit me like a brick wall.

"What makes you say that?"

"Savants can only truly be happy with their soul finders, so it seems logical. I guess we'll never really know, but that's my bet." He pulled back slightly so he could look into my eyes. "I promise Lissa, I will try my damned hardest to make you happy." He softly wiped a tear away from cheek that I had not realised had leaked from my eyelid.

"I love you, Victor," my lips said the words before I had chance to stop them.

"I love you too, Lissa," his eyes lit up with joy before he placed the most amazing and dizzying kiss on my lips. Just as I was sinking into his warmth and his hand brushed up my back underneath my pyjama top, giving me goose bumps, there was a loud snore from the opposite side of the room and Victor pulled away suddenly to see the source of the noise. Zed had snored loudly and turned over suddenly in his sleep. Victor turned back to me and placed his forehead against my own. "We better get some sleep." He sighed loudly. "Sweet dreams."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," I whispered back to which he softly kissed me once more before returning to his place on the floor.

"I love your old English sayings."

"This is where you live?" Zed asked pointedly as we climbed out of the car pulled up by Mrs Grey's. Sky shot him a reprimanding frown.

"Zed!" I guess it wasn't the most spectacular of places to live.

"I can't afford anything else," I explained retrieving my key from my handbag as we climbed the steps to the porch. "I considered myself lucky to scrape by to afford this place." Victor also gave Zed an evil glare to which he responded with a mumbled apology. "Mrs Grey?" I called as we walked through the front door. No answer. "Mrs Grey?" Silence. "What day is it?" I asked Victor.

"Thursday."

"She must be out for her weekly shop," I concluded as we filed up the stairs one by one. When I opened the door to my room the sharp intakes of breath from Zed and Sky were audible.

"Crikey," murmured Sky.

"This is no one man job," Zed said. The room seemed somehow worse than I remembered it with its torn wallpaper and broken wardrobe. It was hateful to see all that I had in the world since I moved to America completely trashed. Victor squeezed my hand softly. Well, not quite all I had in the world was ruined. I opened one of the few drawers that had been left in their places and pulled out a well worn photograph which I handed to Victor.

Victor's eyes softened into a gentle smile as he gazed upon the only picture I had of my father. He had short cropped blonde hair with big blue eyes and he was dressed in a suit for a formal occasion.

"You have his eyes," he said softly as Zed and Sky began to wander my room. I took the picture back from Victor and placed it in my handbag. "Where's this painting, then?" Back to business.

"Over there," I pointed to the wall above my bed where there was a little painting of New York City, with bright colourful lights and expertly painted brush strokes. Zed reached up and carefully pulled the painting away from its hanging. "But if they were really after the painting, wouldn't they have taken it with them?"

"Unless they didn't know what they were looking for," suggested Sky as she went to have a closer examination of the painting. "But I don't see how a picture of New York would be helpful to this organisation." Victor silently took the painting from Zed's hands and flipped the painting over, he carefully pulled back the canvas from the wood slightly to reveal another canvas layer below.

"My guess is the painting is on top of something." He placed the painting on my desk of drawers to examine it more closely. "Zed, go get me a knife from the kitchen?" Zed nodded and did as he was bid, quickly returning to hand his brother the instrument. Very slowly, Victor began to prise the pins away from the wood that attached the top layer of canvas. I marvelled at the strength of the muscles in his arms and the calm concentration on his face. My imagination wandered.

"What is it?" Asked Zed eagerly as the canvas began to slowly peel away.

"I'm getting there, be patient," Victor replied, his concentration never detracting. The flimsy material eventually fell away revealing another canvas below covered in black pen markings.

"What does it say?" Sky asked as Victor turned the painting to read what was written.

"It's names, lots and lots of names," the canvas was covered in row upon row of names.

"Do you recognise any of them, Vick?" Zed asked as he peaked over his brother's shoulder.

"Not at first glance," Victor sighed in confusion.

"I do," I said quietly causing the other three to look at me. "That's my mother's name," I pointed to the top of the list, "Arabella Jones."


End file.
